Ash's Nightmare
by Warlordess
Summary: Ash experiences puberty and it's the most enthralling, horrific journey he'll ever embark on. Pokeshippy. Rated for mild sexual references. Changed from a one-shot to a chapter fic!
1. chapter one

**Disclaimer** – I don't own anything here. Thanks to BitterMaraschino from Tumblr for the inspiration!

**Author** – Warlordess

**Notes** – This is a one-shot (maybe) inspired by a wonderfully sexy piece of artwork posted by my Tumblr wife, BitterMaraschino, on her online journal. I'm also using it for the fic title artwork thing here on FFN so you can see what it looks like. If you want a closer look, please let me know in a review or PM and I can send you the link to the original post on her blog.

She said that the fan art was influenced by the Orange Islands episode, _"Wherefore Art Thou, Pokemon?" _which is the one about the two Nidoran in love and their obstinate trainers who refuse to let them be together. There's a point in the beginning during which Misty calls Ash immature because he doesn't understand the romantic notions of the situation and he wails and mopes, claiming to be grown up enough already.

Anyway, while the artwork features an emboldened Misty attempting to seduce Ash, both _Bitter_ and I laughed about how unlikely it was for our favorite redhead to display such confidence and that, surely, the scenario would have to be a dream or fantasy that Ash had conjured.

Things get… mildly… explicit here. Not too bad, at least at first, but since I'm considering continuing it and developing it into something with a plot, the rating may go up or things may get slightly more heated in Ash's head. We're treading on some pretty wildly foreign territory, eh? Lol.

As a final note, this was supposed to be a Tumblr exclusive post (all the more reason you should follow me if you have your own account, nehehe) but I decided I liked it enough to post it here too… especially if I do indeed decide to continue working on it.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Title **– Ash's Nightmare (AKA: Puberty)

**Summary** – Ash experiences puberty and it's the most enthralling, horrific journey he'll ever embark on. Pokeshippy. Rated for mild sexual references.

**Ages** – Ash, Misty, and Serena are roughly fifteen years old, Clemont is sixteen, and Bonnie is around ten… but I'm not developing this fic enough to make her a sanctioned league trainer. Sorry!

**O**o**O**

When he first opens his eyes, Ash Ketchum doesn't quite know - well - _anything_.

He takes in his surroundings with mild curiosity. The lush landscape of trees and earthen path at his feet and blue sky for miles above his head... He's seen this all before, many times since leaving home of course, but he can't even begin to imagine how he has managed to find himself here _now_.

The last thing he remembers is being in Ambrette Town, Kalos Region, having decided to spend the night there with his traveling companions after a day of window shopping, eating, and a trip to the world-renown Pokemon aquarium. That being acknowledged, he can't help wondering how he managed to escape the Pokemon Center and wander all the way out to the woods without anyone saying anything or trying to stop him.

Serena, Clemont, Bonnie, even Pikachu are nowhere to be found. He is completely alone.

Or is he?

"It's just _so _romantic," a relatively familiar voice croons from behind him, and he jerks around and catches sight of fiery red hair and a demure pose. A girl is standing, facing the opposite direction and staring at the sun, which is suddenly sinking along the lip of the land.

It's Misty. Misty in her yellow camisole and jean shorts and suspenders and side-ponytail, arms behind her back and fingers laced as she sighs deeply and takes in the glorious view.

Ash thinks he should probably ask her what she's even _doing _here but instead his brows immediately scrunch up and he responds to her original statement.

"What's so romantic about the sunset anyway?" he grumbles in a mutter that he can't seem to contain. It's as if his will has been preset to behave and react a specific way to her presence and words.

To his surprise, Misty twists around to face him and, without so much as a single step, is less than one foot away from him next moment, as if she's magic. An index finger is poised just below his nose and she's scowling as she prepares to berate him.

"I wouldn't expect _you _to understand, Ash! I mean, you've never been mature about matters of the heart, have you?" she goes on, wagging that finger around.

Ash follows it with his eyes, teeth and fists clenched mildly in displeasure and he's so wrapped up in her accusation that he doesn't seem to notice that she too is completely alone. No Togepi, as the appearance of her original outfit would indicate, and no Azuril either. She's missing any and all Pokemon and belongings.

So _the two of them _are alone, _together_.

"I'm plenty mature!" he fights back, "Just 'cause I don't understand what makes watching the sun set so amazing doesn't mean I'm not mature a - about - um. . . _heart matters_." he finishes flatly, unable to avoid a slight stutter.

"Ooh-ho, really?" the redhead replies, and she moves fluidly again, arms behind her back the same as before and meandering around him with a curious gaze. "Well, let's see if you've finally grown up after all."

She's in front of him once more and her arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. He suddenly has trouble breathing, only now realizing that her face is merely eight inches from his own. All of his frustration has fallen away to confusion and. . . well, he supposes fear, but he wonders if that's all there is to feel about this turn of events.

Misty has a Cheshire grin on her face, cheeks tainted pink, but she seems far more confident about her position than such facial features would cause Ash to assume her to be. However he's determined to prove her wrong about him and, luckily, his will decides it wants to take action too.

"Well, what will you do now?" she softly asks him, still with that very unlike-Misty smirk on her face, and she eases him backwards until he stumbles and trips.

Ash braces himself for the impact as he falls to the forest floor but is stopped halfway by a tree stump just behind him. And, though he's pretty sure it wasn't there when he'd first come around, he's too preoccupied with the fact that Misty is currently edging her way into his lap, leaning in even closer than before, her shallow breath puffing out against his nose. . .

It's the most awkward and intense situation he's ever been in. His redheaded friend is sitting practically between his legs, her own limbs arching around his waist and behind him, smiling in predatory wait. He feels a strange, overwhelming ache somewhere in his lower abdomen and he knows it's new, unique, and wishes for it to both stop and continue because, for the life of him, he's not sure he can live with or without it.

He won't tell her just how much she's terrifying him because the terror is also aggravating the blitz that has begun to cave in his entire chest cavity. His heartbeat is rapidly increasing to the point that he's not sure he can hide it, his skin is clammy and pickling and his eyes stinging, burning, as he watches one of her suspender straps dip over her shoulder, a simple yet seductive gesture.

It's the pale, peachy skin he's seen a thousand times before (even if not quite as recently or as up close as he may prefer it to be at this particular point in time) but the sight is all at once a forbidden fruit, a taboo.

The train wreck that is his subconscious realizes one thing, and that is that _this girl _is going to somehow be the death of him.

Her lips are ghosting past his right cheek and listing up beside his ear before he can fend them off or retaliate.

"Your move, Ash."

_Your move_.

Somehow, despite the numbness setting in amongst specific body parts and excitement exploding to life in others, the raven-haired trainer is able to flex his fists open, closed, then open again as if testing them to make sure they work properly, before sliding his hands around his friend's hips and holding her at the curve where her back meets her bum. He is uncomfortably aware of the waistband of her jean shorts sitting underneath his palms and his fingers are itching to increase the highly-concentrated level of contact by adjusting his grip.

"H - how's that?" he asks in the most confident tone he can muster, trying to sound cocky over innocently curious. He doesn't want her thinking that he actually needs her opinion on such things.

"It's a start," she simpers, leaning so far in that his nose brushes against the same shoulder her one strap has fallen down. He thinks that he can almost smell the constant, clear scent of water on her skin if only he could inhale a little deeper. Then she lowers her voice to a breathy whisper and continues, "but can you handle what comes next?"

And suddenly she's kissing him, her lips softly joined with his and causing his eyes to widen from the shock. In fact, he attempts to pull away, to collect himself, to cease the fireworks bursting aflame in his gut, but her hands snake up to the base of his neck and the lower back of his head, her fingers running through his hair before tightening, holding him quite firmly in place so that she can continue her mission.

_Her mission to do what? _He has just enough awareness to ask himself the question before he feels something sliding slowly along his bottom lip. He knows it's her tongue and the ache in his groin escalates to the point of incineration. He's staring at her, wide-eyed, while she is calmly unleashing everything in her arsenal, and he feels they've been branded together, her body flush against his, hearts entwined as much as the rest of them.

There is one thing he knows for certain as she loosens her grip on him and sits back what seems forever and a day later, still comfortably perched between his legs even now, and this is...

"Y - you're not... I - this isn't..."

That all-knowing smile is back and he is sure that she's read his mind.

"Don't be silly, Ash. Of _course _this is real," she tells him softly, assuredly, as she stares him in the eyes.

He thinks he should probably continue to fight her on it, to request some form of proof, however she isn't finished speaking.

"It's real _here_," she notes almost absently, taking one hand and tapping him on his forehead before drawing it cautiously, alluringly, past his face and neck to his chest, "and it's real _here_," she says now as she settles the palm of her hand over his heart and he hopes that the _thump, thump _isn't enough to deter her from her activities because - honestly - he almost doesn't mind them. "And it's real..."

And finally, she removes her hand from where it was and draws an invisible line down past his ribs, down, down past his abdomen, down past the belt buckle holding up his jeans, and she falters just over the zipper of his fly.

". . . right _here_."

**O**o**O**

It is now that fifteen year old Ash Ketchum snaps awake drenched in the hottest cold sweat he's ever endured. He's at the Pokemon Center in Ambrette Town, Kalos Region, breathing heavily and his insides shriveling up from everything he's spent his night envisioning.

He takes in the sight of his three traveling companions; Clemont, Bonnie, and Serena. All of them are tucked safely and silently in their beds, content with whatever their subconscious is having them experience while Pikachu sleeps just as soundly at his side. Meanwhile his head is a mess with memories of the fantastical nightmare that is plaguing him for the first time in his life and he doesn't know what's worse.

The fact that he has no idea how to handle what has just happened to him or the fact that Misty suddenly isn't there anymore.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Notes **– This is definitely not supposed to be a thing. It's not supposed to exist. I'm not supposed to write stuff like this, lacking any experience like I do… but I couldn't help it. So here it is. And don't we all wish it were effing _real_? I mean, c'mon Pokemon anime creators, writers, directors, and other miscellaneous staff! Make Ash grow up! Just a little bit!

But, uh, you know, moving on.

Aaand_ scene_! So that's it for now, super short I know, but I just wanted to write a taste for it and see how it went. Um, I am seriously considering making this a thing, like a legitimate fic with a plot and whatnot. After all, isn't anyone curious as to why he's dreaming about Misty after so long not seeing her, despite being around other pretty girls he can fantasize about?

'Cause I have plans… Lol.

Um, uh… reviews are appreciated? Though I'm honestly terrified about what anyone may have to say.


	2. chapter two

**Disclaimer** – I don't own anything here. Thanks to BitterMaraschino from Tumblr for the inspiration!

**Author** – Warlordess

**Notes** – Welcome to the next part of _Ash's Nightmare_, inspired by a wonderfully sexy piece of artwork posted by my Tumblr wife, BitterMaraschino, on her online journal. I'm also using it for the fic cover artwork here on FFN so you can see what it looks like. If you want a closer look, please let me know in a review or PM and I can send you the link to the original on her blog.

Things get _slightly more explicit _here than they did in the first chapter. The plot thickens a bit too, thankfully, but there's some stuff happening and it doesn't end well for Ash either, despite his willingness to oblige fantasy-Misty in her promiscuous fancies. (Yeah, you heard me; Ash is a willing participant by the end of this chapter.) As a whole, I would rate this chapter a _very strong _**PG-13/Teen**.

I'm worried about this chapter. It starts off really slow and then quickly changes pace a fair few paragraphs in. I hope I didn't take too long getting to the good parts. Lol. At the same time, since I'm still not used to writing this kinda thing, I'm a bit concerned that I don't pull it off as well as I could...

Well, feel free to see for yourselves, guys!

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Title **- "Ash's Nightmare"

**Summary **- Ash experiences puberty and it's the most enthralling, horrific journey he'll ever embark on. Pokeshippy. Rated for mild sexual references.

**Ages** - Ash, Misty, and Serena are roughly fifteen years old, Clemont is sixteen, and Bonnie is around ten... but I'm not developing this fic long enough to make her a sanctioned league trainer. Sorry!

**O**o**O**

The second time Ash comes around is three days after his first, erm, _experience _with the girl he's come to recognize as not-Misty.

The scenario is different this time. For instance, he's not in the middle of the woods all by his lonesome. No, quite the opposite, he's suddenly standing on a sidewalk in a bustling city somewhere unknown. There are only two things that remain the same here. One is that none of his current traveling companions are around, including Pikachu. The second is that...

"That's _so_ romantic," the redheaded girl standing not quite beside him sighs softly with her hands cupping her flushing cheeks. She's staring at a nearby couple who are walking by, the young man holding his female associate with one arm slung behind her back and she's practically nuzzling his neck affectionately as the two continue traipsing around town together.

Ash wishes for the life of him that he can understand what gets Misty so caught up in such silly things. He also wishes he didn't care as much. What happened to just training Pokemon and becoming the best Master in the world?

Apparently his blank expression is enough to shake Misty out of her reverie because she turns a sharp gaze on him and raises her head as if to look down at him.

"It's a shame that not _all _guys can be as sweet and mature as he was!" she exclaims in such a Misty-tone that Ash blinks away his wonder and thinks for one second that maybe, just maybe, she's the real deal after all.

"Hey! You can't be talkin' about me, right? I'm just as grown up as _him_!" he retorts assuredly, crossing his arms to make a more defiant statement.

"So Mr. Pokemon Master thinks he can handle a romantic walk around town with a pretty girl?" she asks with a smirk and a quirked brow, leaning towards him with a strange look in her eye.

"I'm sure I could," he confirms, then blinks one eye open at her and continues to dig his own grave, "if there happened to be a pretty girl around somewhere."

The look she's giving him is enough to make him think of retreating. But then she takes a step back again and straightens up to her full height before _hmm_-ing to herself and giving him a half-smile.

"Alright, Romeo. Take your best shot," she instructs smoothly, her tone like satin lace, and she grabs his hand and begins to loop his arm up and around her shoulder. "Of course, I'm the closest you're going to get to _pretty girls_ for now but if you think you've got what it takes, then prove me wrong."

The alarms are ringing in his head and there's an internal tangent - the word _mayday _- screeching repeatedly and trying to keep him grounded. He knows better than to let this go on, he knows where it's heading, of course he does... but there's an - admittedly rather shameful - part of him that wishes to know as much as he can about the guilty pleasure this not-Misty incites in him.

It is perhaps this aforementioned thought that dooms him.

Things seem innocent enough at first. As they walk a little slower than before (there are twice as many limbs to take into account now that they're holding each other so closely), he is doing his best to ignore the faintest brush of her red hair against his cheek and the fact that his arm is draped loosely enough around her shoulder so that his hand is just out of reach of her breast.

His fingers and possibly a very male part of his mind seem to be itching to do something with this knowledge but he doesn't have a chance to act on the impulse. A seamless transition filters over their surroundings and the next thing he knows, everything has faded to black.

He blinks his eyes open once more and realizes he is sitting in a cushy chair. Wrenching his head left and right, he takes in the sight of more chairs just like the one he is sitting in everywhere around him. Columns and rows and the occasional person here and there, and then a blinking, bright light appears distantly before him.

He's pretty sure he's in a movie theater but he can't, for the life of him, figure out what's playing on screen. Even when he tries to focus, the details seem nonexistent.

"If you know where we are, I guess it's time for round two, Mr. Pokemon Master," his redheaded tormenter whispers to him from his right before any visuals he's originally been trying to build a proper context from are blocked by her doing as she'd done in his previous fantasy, casually approaching him from the front and taking a seat right in his lap.

Ash internally urges her to withdraw but thought alone doesn't seem to be enough to shake her off. If his only other nightmare is any indication though, the redheaded girl is at least able to read his mind even if she chooses to ignore his warnings.

"Should I take the lead again this time?" she whispers softly to him, her lips practically nibbling his earlobe already. "Or does Ashy-boy think he can handle it on his own?"

"Guh," the raven-haired trainer murmurs unintelligibly when he feels her tongue take over from where her lips had left off. At the same time, one of her arms has removed itself from around his neck and he can't help but breathe a sigh of relief. It's rather short-lived though, since her next destination is another foray into formerly undiscovered territory.

He doesn't think it's possible but her fingertips are like ice against the skin of his abdomen. She slowly traces circles with her thumb, her other fingers tickling his pickling flesh as if it doesn't bother her one way or another. Her mouth is still working on his ear, but not for much longer. Instead, she stealthily makes her way over to his jawline and neck, suckling softly enough to distract without hurting.

And still, Ash feels as if he's never been more anguished in all of his life.

His vest is suddenly missing and he feels more cowardly without the extra layer of protection, even if it wasn't doing much good to him anyway. Not-Misty is currently working his shirt up and around his chest, and her mouth ghosts past his own, lingering just long enough to make him _want _it before falling down and taking one of his nipples in between her lips.

Ash lurches in terror at how _blissfully amazing_ the attention feels and a gurgling groan escapes his throat as he watches her work out of the corner of his eye. The small part of him that isn't still terrified by these experiences is now mightily impressed at her level of skill.

_I don't know what she even wants from me_, he thinks to himself as if the awareness alone will keep his head just above the water and yet under the clouds at the same time. However, he's clearly forgotten not-Misty's trademark power.

"I only want," the redhead begins, breaking away from her previous task, her gaze smoldering and lusty, "what _you _want. Now... Do you _want _this to be one-sided?" she fusses softly and her brows crease in sudden apprehension.

"N - no!" he shouts without thinking about it, as if the answer is obvious to him when, really, he's not even sure what's happening between the two of them, let alone if he _wants it_.

"That's good, Mr. Pokemon Master, as good as any place to start," she nods to him with a slight smile. He finds himself rather taken with her change in expression, lacking all carnivorous presence she'd previously been using against him. She reminds him of his old friend now, someone he misses daily, though he's never been courageous enough to say so out loud but for once or twice.

"I'm here because you want me here, Ash Ketchum," she tells him as if in agreement with whatever thoughts his subconscious decides to throw around. And then, "But I'm also here because_ I_ want me here. So if we both want me here then why not take advantage of the opportunity? Do what you want, Ash. Nobody can stop you."

_What I want... _The words whirl around and around, a cavernous echo within his conscience, which has spent the past few days telling him that what he is dreaming is so entirely wrong and bewildering and disrespectful and...

But here they are, and Ash is hard-pressed to find any reason to scurry away when he knows that no harm can come to either of them as long as he stays _here_.

_What do I want?_ he asks himself next while Misty gets back to work, and his shirt is over his head and being yanked off a few moments later. The redheaded girl is wasting no time now that she knows her captive has given in to temptation.

The raven-haired trainer wonders if he should feel embarrassed now that he's shirtless in a movie theater. Even more-so, he wonders if anyone else in the audience is distracted by their perverse actions. Rather than throwing caution to the wind and using this as an excuse to finally run though, he internally shrugs off the voyeurs and lets the pleasure control him.

Misty's mouth is on one nipple again while an opposing hand is on the other, softly caressing and pressing experimentally. The other hand is halfheartedly holding her up and still managing to fidget enthusiastically with his belt buckle which, he now notices for the first time, seems to be rather strained.

The pressure he'd felt previously is back, rolling around in his lower abdomen and groin and he wishes to God - or any higher power that will give him the satisfaction - for it to relieve itself.

Still, in all of this, there's Misty - or not-Misty - who is trying her darnedest to do her best and make him feel good. His inhibitions are shot to hell now that he's watching her fervently work her way back up to his neck again, and his heart throbs at her intense concentration and the fire in her eyes.

He thinks he may love her, even if she _isn't _real.

The context of that speculation goes right over his head but not enough to deter his next action as he finally, boldly cups her face with his hands and brings their lips together once more. It's the first time he's really done as she's willed him to all along; to take the lead, to do as he wishes with her, to be in control and not care about anything else, to handle the situation _maturely_.

Even now, though, he isn't sure where to go next, but his previous fantasy comes to mind and he decides to break ground with his tongue, pressing and licking across her lips until they part and grant him entry.

It's not enough, the fireworks are only half-lit and hardly ready to explode the way they did last time, so he pushes further into her and, next he knows, his hands have traveled to her midriff, his fingers coaxing their way up past her ribs.

They take a break from kissing so that they can breathe fresh air again, though things are suddenly stuffy and cramped in their dark corner of the movie theater. Ash blinks and tries to catch sight of something, anything, around him. He can't make out the film that's still playing but he swears he can see a few pairs of eyes on him and his companion and there's a terrible, awful thrill ignited at the thought of their attention and envy towards his predicament.

Misty, breathing laboriously into his shoulder blade, gives a faint _hum_ of excitement and Ash wonders if it's because of his scopophiliac contemplation or if it's because his palms have finally traveled far enough under her yellow tank top to reach their destination.

He thumbs the underwire of her bra, or he assumes that's what he's made contact with, and slips past the obstruction, caressing the enticingly soft flesh of her breasts. Then he flips the silly barrier up and above her chest and takes both of the mounds in his hands.

Misty stills for just one moment and he blanches, wondering if he's finally crossed the line and done her wrong. His life, or else, the fractured pieces that he currently remembers, flash before his eyes. What a way to go, he considers. _His_ hands up his friend's shirt, _her_ hands practically in his pants, him wanting her in ways that he still doesn't quite understand...

If he dies now, he'll never know why these strange things are happening to him... will he?

"M - Misty," he gulps her name in aggravated terror. She seems to shake herself from her rigid silence, going slightly limp and falling against him, his arms mashed in the middle. His fingers have inadvertently changed targets due to the motion and small nubs perk up under his current ministrations.

"Remember, Mr. Pokemon Master," she whispers thickly, tone trembling with lust, "_whatever you want_..."

This final acknowledgement of there being a girl before him, wanting and willing and practically begging for it, causes a blustering increase of pressure to his cock. He practically bites through his lower lip from the bursting white light behind his eyelids but tries to mentally steady himself afterwards despite it.

And he knows now that he wants her too, so badly, and he hasn't even seen all of her yet.

"Well, _that _can be easily rectified," she murmurs, pulling just far enough away so that she's sitting straight up and able to support herself once more. She immediately grasps her red suspenders and lifts them from their perch on her shoulders, letting them drop down beside her waist. Then she grips the hem of her camisole and pulls upward until it's been removed as cleanly as his own shirt had been.

His eyes widen, his hands already all over her, as he prepares to take in the sight...

"Well, Mr. Pokemon Master; _I'm all yours_ now."

**O**o**O**

The dawn is breaking when Ash Ketchum jerks awake in his sleeping bag off of Route Nine, Kalos Region. His current companions, all comfortably unconscious in their own resting places, are completely oblivious to his troubles and dreaming soundly.

Meanwhile his head is a mess of apprehension and desire as he heaves breath and tries to calm himself after everything he's just experienced with not-Misty. He wishes she were with him now, he surely does, but more than that he wishes someone would tell him what's happening to him. To fantasize so crudely about one of his oldest friends, to make her feel obligated to satisfy him, even in some surreal delusion that he could hardly fight against...

The guilt plummets uncomfortably into the pit of his stomach and he groans, leaning forward and trying his best not to wake Pikachu, who is sleeping peacefully beside him next to his backpack.

Suddenly the raven-haired trainer stiffens as he feels something uncomfortable, damp, and slightly sticky right around his thighs, only now noticing the faintest patch of darkness on the plush fabric surface of his bedroll. He squirms a bit in displeasure, in horror, his brows furrowing deeper as realizes what's happened to him...

Or else what he _thinks_ has happened to him.

Ash Ketchum, fifteen years old, has just experienced the consequences of a nocturnal emission... and he's pretty sure he's wet the bed.

**O**o**O**o**O**

**Notes** - I sure do like to make things difficult for poor Ash, don't I? But then again, as much as he's starting to like these fantasies of his, this fic wouldn't be realistic if I didn't include wet dreams and premature, nocturnal ejaculation.

As some of you may have noticed, there's a bit of emotional context coming to light by the end of this chapter. In the next one, Ash is going to have even more trouble distinguishing not-Misty from Misty and just as hard a time telling himself that what he's doing is wrong because he cares about his friend too much to subject her to his hormonal fantasies.

Haha, as a bonus, I may even include some actual dialogue between characters outside of his dreams! Won't that be exciting?

Also, because one or two people mentioned it in reviews, I felt I should warn you that I have no intention of bringing the _real _Misty into this fic. It's mostly about Ash and his manhood, and the possibility of Serena confronting her feelings for Ash too, once she finds out some stuff. The fic is basically going to end once Ash finds out why he's been having these dreams, after he's come to terms with why Misty is involved, and after I've decided he's sufficiently embarrassed himself enough for the sake of my fan-fic. Bwahaha!

Reviews are love! Remember that!


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